7 - Oakley.

Oakley

I watch as she moves forward and gently runs her fingers over the cream silk linen on the four-poster bed. There’s no denying that she is stunning, but it’s a mask to what lies beneath–darkness and rotten evil.

“Listen to me, Eva,” I say, my voice stern.

She spins around and meets my gaze, eyes wide. “Sorry, sir.”

The word sir tugs at my insides as I feel myself thicken in my pants. No schoolgirls call me sir here, so perhaps the word appeals to the dominant side of me I buried long ago. My brow furrows as I stare at her, speculating why that word coming from this girl would affect me.

“Listen carefully. You will conform to the rules here, whether or not you like it.” I close the gap between us, forcing her to step back against the wall. “I don’t cower away from corporal punishment for those who don’t obey.”

Eva shudders, her eyes fluttering as a whoosh of air escapes her lungs.

The satisfaction coils through me at the first sign that she does indeed find me intimidating. I gri